


The Darner's Dance

by DruidX



Series: The Vexations of Elo O'Toreguarde [9]
Category: Titan - The Fighting Fantasy World
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Pretty Clothes, Pretty flowers, Referenced Fighting, Scars, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DruidX/pseuds/DruidX
Summary: Elo O'Toreguarde has been ordered by the Triumverate Council to obtain clothing worthy of her station for an impending trip to see the King of Fangthane. So she seeks out the student of an old friend in the hopes they can help her balance the needs of the Council with the needs of her Patron Deities. She gets what she needs, and maybe a little bit more besides.(Set after Destiny's New Servants, a few years into the Special Recondite Unit's running)
Relationships: Elowyn O'Toreguarde/Nula Yidril
Series: The Vexations of Elo O'Toreguarde [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902259
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first piece I wrote right after joining Tumblr, which ended a year-long writing slump. I can directly attribute this to the cottagecore and haute couture blogs that re-lit my creative flame. I am eminently grateful to the people who put their time into these blogs, and also to the writeblr community for being itself, giving me the courage to share my work more publicly.

"Good afternoon Ma'am, how can I help you?" the girl asked, brown hair tied back in a fastidious bun.   
"Good afternoon," I agreed, glancing around the shop at the bright, lime-washed walls, pink peonies and roses in old jugs, and gold sparkles of light-caught jewellery. "I was hoping I could talk to Mistress Yidril. Is she about?"  
"She should be in the back. I'll see if she has time to talk with you, Mistress..."  
"O'Torguard. Captain O'Torguard, actually."  
  
The girl looked me up and down, taking in my scuffed and pitted badge of office, my roughhewn tunic and mud-splattered boots. Finally, she looked back at my face, her expression one that wavered between disdain and amusement, looking down her long aquiline nose as if she couldn't quite decide if I was making a joke out of claiming to be the renowned Lady of Light. I met her look with an unwavering gaze of my own and gave her a tight smile.  
"I wish to commission her services," I added. The girl didn't move.  
"She is very busy, she may not have time."  
My smile dropped. "As am I. And right now I have neither the time nor the patience to convince you that I am myself. In the back you say? Thank you for your non-assistance."  
I walked past the girl, around an artful mannequin dressed in a dream of purple silk, behind a lavish dark-wood counter and opened the door behind.  
"I say!" called the girl, following me. "How very rude. Ah, excuse me? You can't-! That's not- Come back here!"  
The door led to a short dark corridor made of bare-bricks illuminated by oil lamps, the stone-cold of a passage never touched by sun. Three doorways lead off, one left, one further down on the right and one at the very end. From the door at the end came the sound of singing, so I strode down, the girl still calling after me, instructing me to stop.  
Of course, I ignored her and knocked on the door instead.  
"Mistress Yidril?" I called. The singing stopped so I pushed the door open.   
  


The room was bright and fresh, filled with sunshine and the scent of flowers. I stood hypnotized by the warmth and the greenery.  
"Yes. Can I help you?" I looked over to see an elf staring at me, lowering a pair of crystal spectacles from her face. Her loveliness took me off guard for a moment. Even though she wore a leather apron, her white shirt with its delicate lace still peeped out, and the dark blue skirt with vibrant embroidered flowers swept gracefully around her feet. Flowers that matched those stuck into the garland of her plaited, silken hair.  
"I'm very sorry Mistress, I did try to stop her-" the girl said from behind me.  
"I apologise for the intrusion," I said. "Mistress Nula Yidril, I presume?"  
"You presume correctly," she said. "And whomst is it that interrupts me?"  
I took a few steps further into the conservatory and gave her my most elegant, leggy bow.  
"Elowyn of Torguard, Captain of the Special Recondit Unit. Here to commission your services," I said, rising.  
"Are you now," the elf said with a raised eyebrow. She looked past me. "Azéil, please go back to the shop."  
"But Mistress..." the shop assistant complained, flaring her hands out in my direction.  
"Her Ladyship must surely have a good reason for being so rude?" Miss Yidril said, her arched eyebrow allowing me to both apologise and explain myself.  
"Mistress Azéil," I said, turning to the assistant with my most contrite expression, "I am very much ashamed of my behaviour. It is not to excuse myself, but to provide context that I tell you I have had a trying morning. But I was wrong to take out my frustrations on you. I hope you can accept this humble Watchman's apology." I gave that same leggy bow. "Be assured that next time I will create an appointment, as I should hope not to have been ordered here forthwith by the Triumvirate Council." I gave her a solemn nod.  
"The council sent you here?" Miss Azéil said, her ire visibly deflating. "Oh. Well then." She gave an arched sniff, but there was no malice behind it now. "Yes, I suppose you may be forgiven then."  
"My deepest thanks," I said. Azéli gave Miss Yidril a curtsy and returned to the shop front.  
  


"I'm surprised to see you here, your Ladyship," Yidril said. "No matter what the council said." She folded her glasses and placed them on a small side table, turning away from the desk that held swatches of fabric, colourful paints, brushes, papers and sticks of coloured waxes.  
I gave her a small smile. "That makes two of us."  
"Come," she said as she stood. She laid her apron aside, beckoning me to a tiny table against the window of the conservatory, nestled in the boughs of a trained azalea bush. We sat and she poured us each a cup of tea from a fine porcelain pot into delicate white and gold cups.  
"Now, perhaps you would like to tell me why you're really here," she said. "No offence, but you're the last person I would expect to walk through my door."  
"None taken. And equally, no offence meant, but I never expected to walk through it either." I sighed. "I understand that you learnt your trade under François Babineaux. Is that correct?"  
"It is, though I don't understand what a student of dear Frenchie, gods' rest his soul, can do for you?"  
I took a sip of my tea, an expensive sweet and floral beverage the colour of caramel. "In a week," I told her after savouring my mouthful, "I am being sent to the dwarven kingdom of Fangthane. I have been ordered to purchase some finery that will not embarrass the council when I am introduced to the people of the mountain." I put down the cup. "I know your time will not be cheap, but I require someone who understands that glitz or gaudy fabric is not the only thing that makes clothing elegant."  
Yidril looked at me over the rim of her cup. "Like Frenchie did."  
"Like Frenchie did," I agreed. "I require some formal wear, at least two pieces - one for day and one for evening - that are elegant enough to meet with the council's approval, but will not..." I struggled with my words, "compromise who I am."  
"I think I understand," Yidril said. "Are you likely to be fighting in them?"  
I smiled and gave a little laugh. "Let's assume the answer to that is yes."  
Yidril sat back and looked me over for a moment then tutted. "No no, I cannot see you well enough. Please stand over there." The elf gestured to the centre of her conservatory. I finished my tea, carefully set down the cup and walked to where she indicated.  
"Do you feel comfortable taking off your clothes?" she asked, as her shimmering blue eyes followed me.  
"Are many of your clients scarred?" I asked.   
She frowned. "No. I think the closest many have come to a blade is the silver knife with which they eat their dinner. But what does that matter?"  
"I'm fine with removing my clothes," I told her. "I wished only that you would understand what I look like beneath them before I did so."  
She sat back, a coy smile flickering over her pretty narrow lips. "Well now you have my interest," Yidril said.  
I shrugged. "Very well." In short order, my boots and weapons belt, the pauldron that held my Watch badge, my trousers and tunic sat neatly folded on my recently vacated chair. I stood only in linen shorts and corselette. "I assume I should twirl now?"  
"Gosh no. Don't be silly." The elf maiden stood and walked around me instead.  
"Does this mean, Mistress Ydril, that you are accepting my commission?" I asked as I stood there.  
"Yes, yes," she waved a hand. "As if there was any doubt that I could turn down such a fascinating request. And please, call me Nula." She trailed off, voice distracted. She continued pacing around me for a moment, taking note, I hoped, of my athletic physique rather than the numerous patches to my underwear. "You were right," she said wonderingly, pausing at my left, "You are quite scarred." She reached out to touch a ragged silver line along my left arm, but I shied back.  
"Please don't," I told her, my voice soft, but filled with the threat of action.  
"My apologies."

Nula resumed her circuit around me, pausing now and then to take measurements. "What sort of thing do you currently wear?" she asked, stopping in front of me.  
"A simple tunic and trews. What I walked in wearing," I told her. The elf nodded and walked over to examine said tunic and trews.  
"Do you have anything in mind that you'd like? Any specific colours, perhaps." Nula asked as she held up my tunic.   
"Not really," I said, trying not to cringe at the stains, the worn parts, the  _ raggedness _ of my clothing, especially in this sanctuary of light and beautiful things. "I tend to go for darker colours. It-" I stopped, and looked at my hands.  
"Yes?"  
"It... hides... bloodstains better."  
"Hurm," she said, politely folding the tunic again. She crossed back to her desk, sifting around, picking up squares of expensive cloth and setting them down again. After a moment she started upright, as though coming out of a revery. She waved back at the little table. "Please, do get dressed again. Help yourself to more tea."  
I redressed and poured myself a cup, while Nula pulled out a large folio. "Tell me, do you have a favourite flower? I know woodlings tend to hold an affinity for specific types of trees?" She lifted a belt, the links dripping golden willow leaves.  
"Flowers... I enjoy poppies and marigolds," I said and sipped my tea. "I never had my Tree Day, but my affinity would be with elm."  
She held up a square of white fabric, glinting with golden embroidery. "They do call you ' _ Maz Gaisnas _ ' in the dwarven territories..." she muttered. I rolled my eyes.  
"Please, no glitz." I turned back to my tea, grumbling into my cup, "I'd rather show up in the shoddiest tunic I own than have an ounce of gold thread about me."  
"Silver then?" Nula asked, then laughed at the face I pulled. "If you had to pick between then, though. Gold or silver?"  
"Gold, I suppose," I said, thinking of my dragon and paladin mount, Aurianna.  
"What about a favourite colour?"  
"Red. Dark, like an apple."   
Nula raised an eyebrow. "Because it hides bloodstains?"  
I laughed. "No no. I just like it. It makes me think of cosy autumn days."  
Nula gave me that coy smile again. "Mmhm..." she murmured and turned back to her desk. "So I'm thinking something echoing your normal outfit for day-wear, but for the evening..." she turned around. "You realise it will have to be, as you say, 'glitzy'? Dwarves revere gold... I know you don't want to call attention to your epithet, 'Little Light', but they would respect you more. Unless you'd prefer something different? Human, or elven perhaps."  
"Mistress Yidril... Nula... I have very little preference," I said. "I'd just like something simple, made from a standard cloth, a dark colour with few embellishments, that is elegant enough that I won't get in trouble with the council." I drained my cup and stood. "Perhaps I should have gone elsewhere. I apologise for wasting your time." I gave her a formal bow from the waist, turning towards the exit.  
"Your Ladyship, I apologise." I turned back to see Nula with her hands clasped in front of her, skin pale against the blue of her skirt. "I fear I got carried away. You have a week, you say?"  
I nodded. "Yes, that's right."  
"Very well, please return in three days. I will have some drawings ready. If I do not complete the outfits by the time you leave, then I will have them shipped up to you."  
"And when will you take payment?"  
"That will be between me and the Triumvirate. Your payment should only be word of mouth."  
"Oh?"  
"Any time someone asks you who made your clothes, you give them my name."  
I stared at her. "That's very generous. I do have the means to pay... I would not like to see you short-changed..."  
Nula waved a hand in dismissal. "No, no. It's the least I can do. Now go, and return in two days." She began to turn away then paused. "Make sure you make an appointment this time, yes?" she said, with a sly grin.  
"Of course Mistress," I said, returning her grin, and bowed again.


	2. Chapter 2

I came to a halt just outside the doors of Mistress Yidril's shop, gulped a few breaths and tried to stop my heart from hammering like I hadn't just run a mile to get here. There was a small down-spout next to the pastel-green frontage that fed into a barrel. Standing on tip-toes, I looked at my reflection in the dark water for a moment, trying to put my wild brown hair back in its place. Six of the right-hand braids were coming loose, so I scooped them all into one and pulled a tie around the lot. It hung lopsided but was better than nothing. Between my sun-blanched freckles and generally dark skin, it was hard to see if I'd been splattered with blood. I splashed my face and scrubbed it over with the hem of my tunic anyway, just in case. My tunic that carried the distinctive scent of hops. I groaned internally; that was sure to be noticed. Gods damn. Now I understood why the Triumvirate were nervous about having me represent the city...

  
As neat as I could be in the circumstances, I walked into  _ The Darner's Dance _ .   
"Miss- Captain O'Toreguarde!" Mistress Azéli said, coming around the counter. "You are a half-hour late for your appointment... Why do you smell of ale? I thought you didn't drink... What are those stains... Rust?"  
"I apologise for being late. I was detained by an, ah, incident outside the Cracked Crockpot. The local Watch was struggling to contain a bar brawl and asked me to render assistance. It took a little longer than I expected to get everything under control." 

Miss Azéil gave me a penetrating look, and I wondered if she could see through my reconstructed set of events. Truthfully I'd been dragged into the meleé when a drunkard in said brawl had, on seeing my uniform, tried to strike me with his ale. He only succeeded in soaking my tunic, but my noise of annoyance had drawn other unfriendly eyes, and well, I'm sure you can picture the rest.  
"I thought you usually travelled by Dragon?"  
"I do when she's available, but Aurianna has her own tasks and chores."  
"Hrmph. Very well. This way," Miss Azéil said, turning away. She led me back down the corridor to Miss Yidril's conservatory.

  
Once again, the heady scent of lavender and rose, and the shimmering brightness of the room overwhelmed me as we entered. I barely heard Mistress Azéli introduce me, and withdraw. I couldn't help but close my eyes for a moment, breathing it in, feeling the warmth.  
A friendly set of giggles came from the centre of the room and I opened my eyes again to see Nula smiling at me with fondness, while a quartet of ladies - youngsters really - giggled from behind their hands.  
"I'll be with you in a moment, Lady Toreguarde. Help yourself to tea," Miss Yidril said, waving at the little table again. I took a seat and poured tea for myself, watching as Nula dealt with the girls. I could only assume they were attending some society event for the first time. Their dresses were demure, long skirts and high bodices, but a riot of stunning summer colours with exquisite embroidery in patterns of leaves and flowers. I sat silently as they were measured, pinned and tweaked into the dresses, and tried not to judge them for their upbringing. Nor myself, for my hypocrisy, though that was a lot harder.

  
Soon enough Nula was done, the girls' dresses had been returned to their hangers to be taken away later, and the girls themselves had left. The conservatory seemed somewhat quieter without the backdrop of giggles, cooing and gentle high spirits. Nula sat down opposite me and let out a gusty sigh. I poured her a cup.  
"Do you take milk or honey, Mistress Yidril?" I asked.  
"Please, call me Nula. And just some honey, thank you," she replied and tipped her head back, eyes closed while I stirred in the honey and placed the cup in front of her. She rested a moment longer, before giving another sigh, and bringing herself back to the present.  
"Thank you," she said again and drank half the tea in one go.  
"They seemed... nice," I said.   
"They are, but they are also divas in training, and a bit of a handful together." Nula smiled. "Thank you for being so patient."  
"You're welcome," I said, smiling back.   
Nula finished her tea in another few gulps, so I poured another, as she spoke. "I have some ideas for you to look at, and pick which you like the best. It shouldn't take my girls too long to make them up."  
"Oh? How many do you employ? I genuinely thought it was just you and the shop assistant."  
"Oh! No, no." Nula laughed. "I have five girls on my payroll. They're all quite talented seamstresses, and two of them are skilled Fabrication mages like myself."  
"Fabrication mages?" I blinked, and Nula chucked at my confusion.   
"The Mages' tower don't like to talk about us. Not mysterious or debonair enough I suppose," she said between slower sips of tea. "Fabrication is a type of mage-craft that seems inherent to some elves. Have you never wondered why our architecture and our clothes seem so ethereal? It's because they are created using Fabrication mages."  
"Ah, so the reason your buildings seem faintly magical, is because they are?"  
"Indeed," Nula said, laughing again.  
"Well, I'll be," I said smiling. We finished our tea then, and Nula invited me over to her desk. 

  
The elf laid out a selection of drawings over the other haphazardness of her desk.  
"These are the day outfits," Nula said, pointing to the four drawings on the left, "and these are the evening ideas," she indicated the rest.  
"What's that one?" I asked, pointing at the one still in her hand.   
"Oh, hah." Nula's cheeks pinked, a pretty rose shade to her golden skin. "This isn't one of the selections. I just needed to get it out of my system before I could focus. You'll hate it."  
"May I see?"  
Nula gave me a considering look, then handed the paper over.  
_ Ooh, that's pretty, _ came the voice of my dragon, as I looked over the drawing.  
_ I thought you were busy, _ I replied internally.  
_ And I am. But not too busy to have a half eye on the outfits you're to pick. You have no taste.  
_ I gave Aurianna a mental grumble, partly because she was right. Nula was right as well. 

The costume - because I could never call anything with quite so much ostentation an "outfit" - was a complex, glittering and voluminous thing in white with gold embroidery. A headdress of obscene proportions filled with gems hovered over a pencilled head, while to one side, a pair of feathered wings and harness was drawn with a question mark next to it. From an objective view, it was stunningly beautiful, and would probably have won awards just as it was on paper. From my point of view, it was an abomination of fabric. So much expense, for something someone might parade around in once. So much waste.

"You're right," I said, handing it back. "I hate it."  
_ You'd look so pretty in it,  _ Aurrianna sulked in my head.   
_ Don't care, _ I said, and gave her a flash of all the outrage I'd felt at seeing it.  _ Plus, it'd contrast too much. It would look so bright underground, and with my skin tone...  
_ I felt a mental giggle from the dragon. _Cor cordium_ , she said,  _ you literally glow when giving speeches.  
_ I gave her a mental tut and turned my attention back to the outfits.

Of the day outfits, there was a definite theme. All echoed the blue of the Watch's uniform, all gave a militaristic bearing. One was a closed top, short sleeves and a rounded high collar with wide-legged trousers, embroidered with gold. The second was a jacket, long-sleeved and tapered at the waist, with a squared-off high neck and silver frogging, coupled with narrow trousers. The third was a loose v-necked jacket, tied at the waist with a long billowy tail that hung behind flared trousers. The last was an asymmetric jacket, clasped at the waist with a strip of metal, and the same straight trousers as the second. Outfits one, two and three all featured a long, square-shouldered cape, attached by some secret fastening, the drawing showing it as removable.

"Well?" Nula asked.  
"I- Well." I ran a hand across my temples. "They're... alright."  
"You hate them. I knew it." She dramatically threw her hands up in the air and swept away from me. "I went too overboard, didn't I? Damnit. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away." She put her hands on her hips, tilting her head downwards.  
I ran a hand over my forehead again. "I don't hate them. They're just a bit more... fancy than I was expecting." I sighed. "Perhaps I was expecting too much. There's no way I can stay true to myself and please the council. I mean- Gods. When His Majesty met me I was wearing butchered vestments of Moradin, held in place by a set of skeleton armour. I met his children and their aunt in a refugee camp, after days on the road and tending to the sick. I don't need to impress them. They wouldn't be demanding my presence if I hadn't."  
Nula turned back to me, sharply pivoting on one foot. "But it's not them you need to impress, is it?" she said. "It's the people of Fangthane. Do you know much about dwarves, Lady Toreguarde? They like glittery things. The more gilt and intricate a person's clothes, the more they command respect. They wouldn't look twice at you in what you're wearing now... Well, they might, but only because you smell like beer."

I looked away from her, at the irises, the peonies and sweetpea that surrounded her conservatory.  
"I just don't know if I can justify this." I pressed a hand to forehead again. "The fabric of these alone is going to cost more than most people make in a week. Then add the embellishments and your time and everything. This outfit, that I'll wear a few times at most, could feed a family for half a year. But I can't embarrass the council. Once in Fangthane, I will  _ be _ Toreguarde. I can't disobey a direct order. But I'm also breaking my vows if I wear any of these. The Gods have expectations... The Council has expectations. I don't- What'm I-"  
"Hey! Hey. Breath." Nula knelt on the floor in front of me, parts of her face obscured by dark blotches. She gently tilted my head so I was facing her, looking her in the eyes, as she took my hand, making slow, small circular motions around the heel. "Take a breath. In."  
I breathed in.  
"Good. And out?"  
I breathed out.  
"Excellent. There we go. Much better."  
"Sorry," I said, after a long moment of calming down.  
"Not a problem." Nula gave me a small smile. "It's been a little while since someone's had a panic attack in here." She glanced off to the side, staring at the flowers for a long while, before she turned back to me, her expression serious. "Look, if it's that much of an issue for you how about this: Whichever outfit you pick, for every one I sell because you wore it first, I'll donate 20% of the profit to the Shield."  
I bit my lip in surprise, then started to say thank you, but Nula cut me off.  
"-And! Every year that I'm still in business, I'll take an apprentice. Someone from the outer districts. They have to know their letters and numbers already and show an aptitude for the craft, but I'll give someone a chance that might not otherwise get."  
"That's incredibly generous of you," I said, and I just knew my shock still showed. "Thank you so much. I'll have my assistant put you in touch with someone from the Shield."  
Nula laughed. "Not a problem. Anything to get you over this dissonance, and get my product out there. So which will it be?"  
I looked back at the outfits. "Which one is going to get the most money?" I asked.  
Nula frowned and tutted at me. "Don't do that," she said. "You need to pick what's going to be most comfortable for you."  
I hummed lightly, looking over the drawings again. "This one," I said, picking up the one with the high-necked jacket. It was the simplest look, with the most elegance. It also looked closest to what I usually wore, and would, therefore, be easiest to fight in. "But, could it have less glitz? And also, could you put a- a split thingy in the back, or on the shoulders so I don't rip it the moment I move my arms?"  
"Oh, like a pleat?" Nula looked up from where she'd found a spare sheet of paper and was doodling new designs.  
"Uh. Maybe?"  
"Here, like this." She grabbed a swatch of fabric and demonstrated, pinching the fabric to create a hidden fold.  
"Yes, like that."  
Nula nodded and handed me the swatch. "Incidentally, that's the fabric I was thinking of. Let me know what you think."  
I felt the square. One side was the softest linen I'd ever felt. On the other was stitched some kind of satiny fabric. The linen was a deep blue, matching the Watch's uniform, while the satin was a pale blue.  
"It's lovely," I told her. She hummed in response, momentarily absorbed in her drawing. 

  
As she was busy, I turned my attention to the evening outfits. The first was a peach coloured dress, it's skirt short and a split up one side, while the bodice was asymmetric, beaded decorations that could have been flames or feathers reaching up from the waist to the shoulder. Noted separately was a hose and shorts combo, so I could run and not be embarrassed, I supposed. The second outfit was a vibrant red dress, the skirt cut short across the front, but dipping down behind. The bodice was cut plainly, square across the chest from shoulder to shoulder. But it was the embroidery that made this garment stand out. On the back of the dress was a geometric design, picked out in gold thread, depicting a dragon clinging to the wearers back. Again, the hose and shorts combo made an appearance. The third was white, the short skirt wavy, perhaps made from some diaphanous material, with two splits in it. The bodice was gathered at each shoulder with a gold boss, dipping down at the front and leaving a drape of material across the back. It was pulled in at the waist by a metal-looking gold girdle, decorated with flowers and leaves. The final outfit was a midnight blue suit, made from some shimmering material. The trousers went straight down, but the jacket was decorated along the wide lapels with silver elvish script and flowers.

_ I don't know which to pick, _ I thought to Aurianna.  _ They are all so beautiful.  
_ _ You could be practical about it. The blue one will be easiest to fight in.  
_ _ What if, for once, I want to be pretty? _ I asked. There was an internal silence, as Auri considered my words. I was glad she didn't call me out on it.  _ After all, I have permission now. _ I added, half-joking.   
_ Take care, _ My dragon warned me, her aspect in my mind taking the form of thunder clouds - bruise-dark and ominous.  _ That kind of thinking is a slippery slope. _ She paused. Her aspect lightened.  _ I like the red one, _ she added, and then I got the impression she'd turned her attention back to whatever it was she should have been doing. I sighed. Some help she'd been. If I was being strictly practical, then I should take the suit. If I had to wear a skirt, then the floating one would be best. But my eye kept being drawn back to the peach number. It would certainly surprise any enemy that saw me in it. I drummed my fingers on Nula's desk. It would have helped if I knew exactly why I'd been summoned by the King of Fangthane. His emissary had given me some gumph about protecting my best friend and now pregnant High Inquisitor of Moradin, but something about his delivery had been off. Plus, her Eminence did not me to babysit her, preggers or otherwise. Still, if all King Storri wanted to do was show the power he commanded, that would be one way to draw attention. I sighed.

"I may regret this," I said, picking up the piece of paper, "But I'd like this one for my evening outfit. Can you make sure that it goes over the right shoulder though? I need the left clear for my holy symbol."  
Nula looked up at me, glanced at the paper, frowned and her eyes found mine again. "Are you sure?" she asked, the confused frown turning to a worried one.  
"Yes," I said, confident in my bullshit. "It's a tactical choice. I'm always the distraction. It seems to be my primary focus in life. I will be extra distracting in this."  
"Yes," Nula agreed, her eyes going languid as she looked me up and down. A lazy smirk tugged at her lips, and her cheeks reflected the colour of her roses. "Yes, you will be  _ quite _ the distraction."  
I blinked. "Why Mistress Yidril. Are you flirting with me?"  
"And if I am?" she asked, her tone teasing.  
I took a breath, then let it out in a gusty sigh as reality caught up with the dozen of interesting images that flashed through my mind. "I'm flattered, but now is not a good time. In a handful of days, I'm being sent to the other end of Alansia for Gods know how long. Also, we both have work to do to prepare for said trip."  
She was giving me a coy sideways look. "But you are interested, correct?"  
I looked her straight in the eye and said simply, "Mistress Yidril, had circumstances not conspired against us, I would have suggested we took tea and crumpets at your abode within the hour." The light dusting of rose bloomed to a full-on blush as her eyebrows raised.  
"Galana take pity on me," she breathed. "That audacity." Nula swallowed, and I found myself watching closely the grace of her neck. "How do you not have people fawning all over you the moment you step outside in the morning?"  
I shrugged. "I'm told I'm quite scary before my morning tea."  
Nula laughed, and oh that was a delightful sound. I smiled sadly.  
"Forgive me, Mistress Yidril, but I believe we still have work to do?"  
She hummed and sighed wistfully. "Yes, we do." She turned the page she had been working on around to show me. "Are these designs more to your liking?"  
I took the page to see she'd redrawn the jacket I'd requested. Instead of the excessive silver frogging, she'd imagined some kind of hidden fastening. A minuscule amount of golden thread created a border around the neck, hem, cuffs and down the front that was filled with geometric leaf designs, picked out in a blue only slightly lighter than the jacket fabric. The one exception to this subtlety was the back of the collar, where a starburst was depicted, and the back of the hem, where a dragon was shown, both picked out in the gold thread. I handed it back, smiling.  
"It's beautiful. Much more my style," I said, and Nula beamed.  
"Very well then," the elf said, and I handed her back both drawings. She made a note about my prefered side for the dress and nodded. "I'll have my girls get started on these as soon as possible," she said, fixing the two drawings together with an extra note. Her hands skittered over her desk as she spoke further, tidying the other drawings away and replacing pens. "I'll need you to come back in two days for a fitting. There will inevitably be tweaks to be made, but we should be able to do the alterations then return the articles to you, packed and ready for travel before you leave." Nula raked her fingers through the hair above her ears, stopping short of pulling on her crown of plaits.  
"Is everything okay?"  
"Yes yes." She flapped a hand at me, but there was an undertone to her words. One side of her lips curled up, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.  
I stepped forward, and gently took that flapping hand. "Nula, I really appreciate everything you're doing for me. If there's anything I can do-"  
"Oh, no." She gave a depreciating little laugh. "It's nothing serious. Just a little flustered" She looked back down at the drawings on her desk. "There's just so much to do, in such a short time."  
"Oh. Yes." My short laugh was more tired than anything, thinking about having to get my Watchhouse in order before I left. "Tell me about it."  
"Over dinner?" Nula asked, ever hopeful apparently.  
I laughed again, brighter this time. "I think we're both a little busy for dinner. How about I bring you pastries to my next appointment?"  
"I would really like that," Nula said, smiling properly now, a beautiful, shimmering thing. I looked at her a moment longer, before bringing her hand up and ghosting my lips over it.  
"As my lady wishes then," I said and gave her hand back with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Elo is that bad at flirting. Yes, she's also that thirsty. It's what happens when you're nearly the only gay in the village, with a job and social skills that don't lend themselves well to having a social life.


	3. Chapter 3

"Captain O'Toreguarde! It's nice to see you," Mistress Azéil said as I entered the shop. "And only a mere ten minutes late this time. Who is this?"  
"Good morning Mistress Azéil," I greeted the severe woman. "Charmed to see you as well. This is Gavin." I looked up at the man stood beside me, bald and clad only in black. "Gavin, say hi."  
"Greetings, m'lady," he said, and gave her a slight enough bow that she couldn't see his hands were bound behind his back.  
"Charmed, I'm sure," Miss Azéil said, with an arched eyebrow. "And why exactly have you accompanied Captain O'Toreguarde today?"  
"He's a-" I stalled. I couldn't tell her what he actually did.  
"I'm an asset manager," Gavin lied. Quite smoothly, I might add. "I transfer funds and other items between notable parties." I coughed to cover up a snort.  
"That sounds interesting," Azéil said politely.  
"Oh, it is. Delightfully thrilling. In fact-"  
"Well," I interrupted, "we don't want to keep Mistress Ydril waiting any longer. Mistress Azéil, another woodling girl will be here shortly. If you could point her in our direction, I'd be most grateful."   
"Of course," Azéil gave me a thin-lipped smile. I nodded and pulled Gavin along with me, as the door tinkled behind us. I waited for Aurianna to give Azéil a polite greeting and then catch up with us before walking into the conservatory.

  
"A whole contingent today, I see?" Nula said as we entered. "Who is this?" She lowered her spectacles and looked between Gavin on my left, and Auri on my right. "A girlfriend and a boyfriend?"  
I laughed and gestured to Auri. "Mistress Ydril, this is Aurianna Aurum Filiae, my dragon. And this," I gave the rouge I was still holding onto a little shake. "This is Gavin. Gavin is an idiot." At a nod and a silent word to Arui, she'd walked over to the little table, and was pulling out one of the chairs. "He tried to mug me, which is why he's an idiot." I pulled him over, making him sit, and Aurianna cuffed his leg to that of the chair. "He is also the reason I don't have any pastries for you." From the way Gavin paled, I could only assume Nula was giving him some kind of death glare. "Gavin, if you sit there quietly, do not move, do not make a nuisance of yourself, and do not try to filch anything, I'll put in a good word for you. Got it?"  
The thief's eyes darted back to me and he nodded. "Of course, sure thing."  
I read the truth in his eyes and satisfied, I walked back to Nula.  
"I'm sorry I had to bring him here," I told her softly. "I didn't have time to take him to a Watchhouse, and I didn't run into any Watchmen on my way over that I could hand him over to." I frowned. "Something that I will be having words about to Captain Jansen."  
"It's not a problem," Nula assured me with a smile. "I'm just sorry about my pastries. Anyway," she gave a clap, "you have clothes to try on. But first, let me do something about this." She gestured vaguely at my everything. Probably because in our disagreement about what good mugger-mugee etiquette should be, Gavin pitched me into a muddy puddle. How Mistress Azéil managed to  _ not _ comment on my appearance for once, I'll never know. Nula leant forward and touched my shoulder, whispering a minor cantrip that made the mud, stains, crumbs and whatever else vanish from my everything.  
"Thank you," I said, giving her an embarrassed smile.  
"My pleasure. Now, clothing." Nula clapped her hands, beginning to turn away, so I started unbuttoning my tunic. Nula turned back in a hurry. "No, no. Not here! I have a changing room," the elf said, aghast.  
I blinked. "But, you've already seen me in my undies," I pointed out. "Auri's seen me naked."   
The dragon nodded. "It's true. Watching her shimmy out of a second-floor window in nothing but her birthday suit and a sheet was... quite something," Aurianna said, her eyes dancing as she tried to keep a straight face.  
"And," I continued, "no one will ever believe the idiot over there saw me in my undies."  
"I would resent that, if it weren't true," Gavin said, having a dramatic sigh.  
"Okay then, if you're sure," Nula said, glancing at each of us. I nodded, and she pulled over a rack. 

I undressed as she pulled the embroidered suit out of its fabric case.  
"Here," she said, handing me a white silk camisole. "In case you somehow lose the jacket." I pulled it on, and she handed over the trousers, and finally the jacket. I shrugged that on as well, and Nula showed me how to do up the hidden hooks. "How does it feel?" she asked. I took up a fighting stance, moving slowly in the prayer-forms.  
"Mostly good. The jacket is a marvel, but the seat of the trousers is a bit tight." I stood and readjusted everything. "I'm worried about ripping them."  
Nula frowned. "I'll see if I can add some reinforcement to it. Anything else?"  
"No," I smiled at her. "The jacket moves perfectly."   
"You're looking real sharp there, Cap," Gavin called.  
"I thought I told you to be quiet," I told him, grinning his direction so he would know I wasn't angry.  
"Wasn't there a cloak with this one?" Aurianna asked.  
"Indeed," Nula said. She reached into another clothes bag to bring out a plain midnight blue cloak made of some heavy, yet flowing material. "Here, Lady Aurianna, may I show you how to affix it?"  
"Of course," the dragon said. "Please, call me Auri." She bounced over, watching as Nula fixed the cloak and explained.   
"Alright... Auri," Nula said. I craned my neck, trying to watch the process. "There is an invisible flap here and here, both of which have these things called press-studs. They're a dwarvish invention, but the children of Throff use a much more brutish version. All you need to do is lift the flap, and there is a sister-stud on the other side, do you see?" In the corner of my eye, I watched Auri nod, concentration scrunching the corners of her eyes. Nula continued, "then you just push them together. They're a bit new, so it might be a bit tough." Nula came around in front of me to settle the cloak over my shoulders, her hands gentle as she smoothed the fabric out. "They're designed so you can remove it in a hurry," she told me, gaze concentrated on my shoulders. "If the cloak gets trapped or caught, just pull on the studs and it won't be a problem any more." Nula gave me a look, slightly pained, pinched with worry. "I won't be responsible for any part of my outfits causing your death."  
I swallowed. "Understood," I told her, in my gravest, most paladin-like tones. She gave me a quick smile and moved on.  
"Right, let's get you out of that," she said, moving towards her desk, looking for a scrap of paper to make notes on. I said nothing but watched with a smile as her back went ramrod straight.  
"And into the next item?" Auri asked sweetly.   
"Yes. That's what I meant," Nula said, and bent to scribble something down.   
I pulled at the press-studs. They were a little tough to get off, but soon I was in my underwear again, handing clothing to Auri.

Nula brought out the dress. Even draped over her arm, it was stunning. Diaphanous material in pale peach, multilayered so it slid in her arms, graceful without even trying. The red and orange beading caught the light and seemed to flicker like a multitude of candles. I gazed at it, wonderingly. And worried. A maelstrom of concern kicked up inside me: Could a short-arsed watchman like me get away with wearing something so stunning, was it too overblown, had I made the right choice, would I stand out too much? Did I have the right to wear it?  
"What's the matter?" Nula asked. Her eyes flicked from me to the dress and back again. "Is it not- Have you changed your mind?" she asked. "It's alright if you have. We have a few more days. We can make something else..." She trailed off.   
"Elo?" Auri was there, at my elbow, looking at me with reassurance. Her aspect inside my head was calming, gentle breezes causing susurration in a summer-leaved tree. I opened up the torrent of confusion that I'd been holding in check and watched her face pinch as she processed it. After a moment, my dragon smiled, the comfort of sun-warmed prairie-grass, sweet and energising. She sent me an image, a female figure haloed in golden light, all graceful, elegant lines, strong and guileless. It took me a moment to realise the figure inside the halo was me. I blinked at her, and she nodded. Just once, an assured jerk downwards, never losing her smile.  
"If anyone can make this work, it'll be you," she said out loud, squeezing my arm. Nula was looking between the two of us, so Auri turned that sun-drenched smile on her.   
"It's okay, just some cold feet," the dragon explained. Nula looked back at me. I nodded, with a small smile.  
"Sorry," I said. Nula's shoulders relaxed a little.  
"No problem," she said. "You're going to look amazing." The elf maid reached out and ran a thumb across my cheek. "Alright?"  
I nodded and reminded myself to breathe, as Nula held out the dress and shorts. On went the hose and shorts, followed by the dress, pulled over my head. Nula walked around to lace up the loose side. She took a step back, her face contemplative as she studied my form with a professional eye. 

There was a wolf-whistle from the other side of the conservatory.  
"Damn, Cap," Gavin said, awe in his expression. "Just-" he shook his head. "Wow."  
"Thank you, Gavin, for that stunning commentary," Nula said, rolling her eyes, the smile growing. "How does it feel?"  
I cautiously crouched into a defensive stance and up, moving into another form, feeling the way the fabric moved with me. The dress clung everywhere a dress should cling, hugging the few curves I had, moulding to me like a well-used armour.  
"It's amazing," I said, just as much awe in my voice as had been on Gavin's face.  
"Nothing's too tight, or too loose?" Nula asked. She walked around me as I stood normally again, crouching down to do something to the hem at the back.  
"No, it's all fine," I said.  
I heard her sigh. "I'd love to give you a train, but there are so many ways that could go wrong..." She tisked to herself, stood, and went back to the garment bag.  
"I need you to put these on," she said, handing me a pair of grey, low-heeled court shoes. "I need to get the length of the back right. Aurianna, would you mind holding this for a moment..." So saying she handed Auri a gauzy grey piece of fabric, covered with embroidered lines. I put the shoes on, and Nula fussed at the back of the dress some more.

After a while, she rose, took the swathe of fabric from Auri and held it up.   
"Another cloak," she said in explanation. I may have gaped, judging from the grin she gave me. The light grey fabric was nearly transparent, and the embroidery mimicked the veins in a dragonfly's wing, so natural and organic and  _ Elven _ that I should have refused it on diplomatic grounds. But Nula was leaning around me before I could say anything, fixing the cloak so that it would hang around my pauldron.  
"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "It's press-studs again, so if things go pear-shaped..." The elf shrugged because we'd already had that conversation. Nula sighed and indicated I should change out of the dress.  
"So what happens now?" I asked, handing clothing back to Auri, and putting on my old ones. The elf maid was leaning over her desk, making notes which she pinned to the clothing bags.  
"Now," she said, "we make the required alterations. I should be able to have them done by tomorrow morning, packed up and ready for transport." She paused and looked up. "Should they be sent to the SRU watchhouse?"  
"No," I said in the process of strapping on my pauldron. "Could you have them sent to 23 Acacia Avenue, in the Phantom Columns district? That would be better I think." I snorted to myself. "My watchmen are known for their snooping."  
"You don't want them to see your beautiful gown?" Nula said, glancing over with a grin. I checked that Arui was making Gavin ready to move, and wandered over to lean on Nula's desk.  
"No," I told her. "They can be surprised when they see the inevitable sketch in Torguarde's society paper."

We paused, a companionable silence drifting between us, punctuated only by the scribbling of Nula's graphite on paper and the back-drop of Aurianna and Gavin baiting each other.  
"Nula..." I stopped, insecurity coiling in my stomach.  
"Yes?" She looked over at me from where she stood, leaning over the desk. A few skeins of her corn-silk hair hung loose, escaped from an intricate set of braids, daisies and sweet-peas tucked into their folds. I took a moment, gathering my courage and admired her long form, swathed in green today. A spring-green silk shirt, billowing around her arms from long tight cuffs, was tucked into high-waisted trousers the colour of a late-summer oak leaf, wide-legged and elegant. Nula straightened, giving me an odd smile, one hand on her hip.   
"Yes, Lady Toreguarde?" Nula asked again, amused.  
"I- Uh. I know we're- We're both really busy. But, I was wondering, if perhaps when you drop off the clothes tomorrow, we could get breakfast?"  
"And what makes you think it'll be me dropping them off?" Nula asked, that amused little smile still on her face.  
"Uh." For a moment I was chastened, but managed to rally. "The offer of breakfast with me?"  
The elf maid outright laughed then, a smile wide on her face. She sashayed across the small space between us, leaning down to cup my face.  
"Is it breakfast," she asked softly, her lips at my ear, "or is it  _ breakfast _ ?" She pulled back far enough for me to see her amorous eyes, the eyebrow arched meaningfully. Heat spread through me like fire, lighting up my cheeks, and I coughed.  
"Just, ah. Just breakfast," I said, then swallowed as her hand traced down my neck to my shoulder. "If-" I swallowed again. "If this is you getting back at me for the other day... it's working."  
"Humm?" her smile grew more flirtatious.  
I wet my lips, a nervous gesture more than anything else. "But you can stop now."  
"Oh, should I?"  
My eyes fluttered closed, an attempt to keep some shred of honour. "Not in front of the children, dear."  
She gave me a wicked little chuckle, but retreated as asked.  
When I looked again, she was leaning against her desk facing me.  
"So. Breakfast tomorrow morning. With you," Nula said.  
"Yes," I said, even though it wasn't a question. "Nula, look." I paused and stared at my hands for a moment, before meeting her grey-blue eyes. "I'm going to Fangthane in two days. I like you, I do. But I have no idea when I'll be able to come home. If I-" I shook my head. "So I thought it might be nice to have a meal with you before I left. So we could-" My voice failed me, and I looked away.  
"So we could say goodbye," she finished for me, her voice soft.  
"Yes."  
"Alright."

I risked a glance up at her. Nula had turned away from me now, looking down at her desk, eyes hidden by another loose skein of hair.  
"Alright?" I asked.  
"I'll see you tomorrow morning, at 23 Acacia Avenue, and you can take me to breakfast," Nula said in a tight voice, never looking up. My chest ached, for a fierce, brief second. I took a shuddering breath and pulled away from the desk.  
"I look forward to it," I said, and bowed towards her from the waist, before turning away.  
"Aurianna," I called. "Are you ready to move?" My dragon called the affirmative, her words lost on me, and I followed her out, trailing behind Gavin the idiot.


End file.
